BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

•o 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


FOR  FREEMEN:  1 


A  COLLECTIO? 


ON  AND  PATRIOTIC 


TRF  PFOPTF 

JLllJu    1  JjUx  JLJJUi 


FAMILIAR  ASD  POPULAR  MELODIES 


DESIGNED  T<  l  1 '  II  ( )  M  OT  E  T  FT  F. 

FKEE  rUKSS,  FKICE  SOIL, 
AM>   I'KEMcNT 


II  T  I  C  A  : 

H.  H.  HA  VV  L  E  Y    P  U  B  L  I 


FT5KK  SP 
MEN 


NGS  FOR  FREEMEN: 


A  COLLECTION  OF  CAMPAIGN  AND  PATRIOTIC 


SONGS  FOR  THE  PEOPLE, 


ADAPTED  TO 


FAMILIAR  AND  POPULAR  MELODIES, 


AND 


DESIGNED  TO  PROMOTE  THE  CAUSE  OF  "FREE  SPEECH, 

FREE  PRESS,  FREE  SOIL,  FREE  MEN, 

AND  FREMONT." 


UTICA: 

H.  H.  HAWLEY,    PUBLISHER. 
1856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  by 

H.   H.   HAW  LEY, 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Northern  District 
of  New  York, 


CHAS.  E.  FELTON, 
MfEREOTYPER,    BUFFALO,  K.  T. 


SONGS  FOR  THE  PEOPLE. 


ADDRESS  OF  FREEMEN  OF  THE  NORTH,  TO 
FREEMEN  OF  KANSAS. 

BY  KEY.  J.  PIERPONT. 

From  Warren's  Address  to  the  American  Soldiers,  before  the  Battle 
of  Bunker  Hill. 

TUNE  —  "  Scots  ioha  hae." 

Stand  !  the  ground 's  your  own,  my  braves, 
Will  ye  give  it  up  to  slaves  ? 
Will  ye  look  for  greener  graves  ] 

Hope  ye  mercy  still  ? 
What 's  the  mercy  ruffians  feel  1 
Hear  it  in  that  battle  peal ! 
Read  it  on  yon  bristling  steel ! 

Ask  it — ye  who  will. 

Fear  ye  foes  who  kill  for  hire  1 
Will  ye  to  your  homes  retire  1 
Look  behind  you !  — they  're  on  fire, 

And  before  you,  see 
Who  have  done  it! — from  the  vale, 
On  they  come !  —  and  will  ye  quail  ? 
Leaden  rain  and  iron  hail, 

Let  their  welcome  be ! 

In  the  God  of  battle  trust ! 
Die  we  may,  and  die  we  must ; 
But,  oh !  where  can  dust  to  dust 

Be  consigned  so  well, 
As  where  Heaven  its  dews  shall  shed, 
On  the  martyred  patriot's  bed, 
And  the  rocks  shall  raise  their  head. 

Of  his  deeds  to  tell  ? 


OUR  BANNER. 

AIR —  "  Sparkling  and  bright." 

Proudly  and  bright,  in  the  sun's  buad  light, 

Our  banner's  floating  gaily, 
And  freemen  bold,  to  its  ample  fold, 

By  millions  gather  daily 

Then  let  it  wave,  o'er  the  free  and  brave, 

And  proclaim  to  all  creation, 
That  there  's  no  mistake,  we  're  bound  to  shake 

Off  the  yoke  of  Southern  domination. 

We ' ve  a  leader  too,  that  is  staunch  and  true, 

And  the  vict'ry  he'll  secure  us, 
For  besides  the  right,  we  shall  have  the  might, 

That  will  carry  all  before  us. 

For  our  flag  shall  wave,  etc. 

Feeble  and  cold  is  Buchanan's  hold, 

On  the  confidence  of  the  nation, 
Like  the  shifting  wind,  you  can  never  find 

Him  twice,  in  the  same  situation. 

But  our  flag  shall  wave,  etc. 

As  for  "Know-Nothing  Fill,"  he  '11  find  it  up-hill, 

To  work  against  our  Fremont, 
He 's  a  little  too  late  for  the  chair  of  state, 

And  he  may  as  well  not  dream  on't. 

For  our  flag  shall  wave,  etc. 

Fremont 's  the  man,  that  shall  lead  the  van, 

Against  the  South's  aggression, 
From  the  grizzly  bear,  to  the  bullies  there, 

Will  be  no  bad  succession. 

Then  our  flag  shall  wave,  etc. 


HAIL  COLUMBIA! 

This  time-honored,  noble  song,  will  be  found  peculiarly  appropriate 
to  the  present  time. 

Hail !  Columbia,  happy  land ! 
Hail,  ye  heroes,  heaven-born  band, 
Who  fought  and  bled  in  freedom's  cause, 
Who  fought  and  bled  in  freedom's  cause, 
And  when  the  storm  of  war  was  gone, 
Enjoyed  the  peace  your  valor  won ; 
Let  independence  be  your  boast, 
Ever  mindful  what  it  cost, 
Ever  grateful  for  the  prize, 
Let  its  altar  reach  the  skies. 

Firm,  united,  let  us  be, 
Rallying  'round  our  liberty, 
As  a  band  of  brothers  joined, 
Peace  and  safety  we  shall  find. 

Immortal  patriots!  rise  once  more! 
Defend  your  rights,  defend  your  shore! 
Let  no  rude  foe,  with  impious  hand, 
Let  no  rude  foe,  with  impious  hand, 
Invade  the  shrine,  where  sacred  lies, 
Of  toil  and  blood,  the  well-earned  prize ; 
While  offering  peace,  sincere  and  just, 
In  Heaven  we  place  a  manly  trust, 
That  truth  and  justice  may  prevail, 
And  every  scheme  of  bondage  fail. 

Firm,  united,  etc.        , 

Sound,  sound  the  trump  of  fame ! 

Let  Washington's  great  name, 

Ring  through  the  world  with  loud  applause, 

Ring  through  the  world  with  loud  applause  ; 

Let  every  clime  to  freedom  dear, 

Listen  with  a  joyful  ear ; 

With  equal  skill,  with  steady  power, 

He  governed  in  the  fearful  hour, 


Of  horrid  war,  or  led  with  ease, 
The  happier  time  of  honest  peace. 

Firm,  united,  etc. 

Behold  the  chief  from  golden  lands, 
To  serve  his  country,  ready  stands, 
The  rock  on  which  the  storm  will  beat, 
The  rock  on  which  the  storm  will  beat ; 
But  armed  in  virtue,  firm  and  true, 
His  trust  is  fixed  in  Heaven  and  you ; 
When  hope  is  sinking  in  dismay, 
When  gloom  obscures  Columbia's  day, 
His  steady  mind  from  changes  free, 
Resolves  on  "Death  or  Liberty." 
Firm,  united,  etc. 


SONG  OF  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS. 

By  a  member  of  the  Young  Men's  Fremont  Club,  Sandusky,  0. 
TUNE  —  "Jordan." 

We  come  from  the  east,  and  we  come  from  the  west, 
From  Maine,  to  the  farthest  Rocky  Mountain, 

And  we  go  in  for  Freedom,  and  all  of  the  rest, 
Of  the  blessings  that  flow  from  her  fountain. 

So  "roll  up  the  votes,"  is  the  motto  of  our  song, 
Like  great  rivers,  flowing  from  their  fountains, 

We  '11  elect  Colonel  Fremont,  we  '11  do  it  right  along, 
And  Buchapan  send  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

We  've  Right  on  our  side,  and  millions  of  freemen. 

And  Kansas  is  the  field  of  the  battle ;  [a  pen. 

Slave  drivers  there  shall  learn,  they  can  't  put  freemen  in 

Nor  chain  them  up  in  droves  like  their  cattle. 

So  "roll  up  the  votes,"  etc. 

Let  the  whole  North  ring  with  the  cry  of  "  Free  Soil," 
For  we  're  bound  not  to  let  Kansas  come  in, 


With  the  sound  of  the  lash,  applied  to  slave  toil, 
If  we  have  to  give  Democracy  a  "  drvmmm'." 

So  "  roll  up  the  votes,'*  etc. 

Then  in  the  coming  fight,  let  every  freeman  bring 
A  strong  vote  for  Freedom  —  and  remember, 

It's  a  "Free  Fight"  boys,  so  come  into  the  ring, 
And  "give  'em  Jessie"  Fremont,  next  November. 

So  "roll  up  the  votes,"  etc. 


FREEMEN !  SONS  OF  NOBLE  SIRES. 

TUNE  —  "  Scots  ivha  hae." 

Freemen !  sons  of  noble  sires, 
Hearts  that  burn  with  freedom's  fires, 
Welcome  to  your  funeral  pyres, 

Or  to  victory. 

Now's  the  day,  and  now's  the  hour, 
See  the  front  of  battle  lower, 
See  approach  the  ruffian  power, 

Chains  and  Slavery ! 

Who  will  be  a  traitor  knave  ? 
Who  can  fill  a  coward's  grave  I 
Who  so  base  as  be  a  slave  ? 

Let  him  turn  and  flee. 
Who  for  Liberty  and  Law, 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw  ? 
Freeman  stand,  or  freeman  fall, 

Let  him  ready  be. 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pains, 
By  our  countrymen  in  chains, 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 

But  we  will  be  free. 
Lay  the  proud  usurpers  low, 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe, 
LIBERTY  's  in  every  blow — 

Let  us  do,  or  die. 


COLUMBIA  CALLS  ON  HER  SONS  TO  BE  FREE. 

TUNE —  "  The  Grave  of  Buonaparte." 

Hark  !  Hear  ye  the  sound  that  the  winds  on  their  pinions 
Exultingly  roll  from  the  shore  to  the  sea,  [ions  'I 

With  a  voice  that  resounds  through  her  boundless  domin- 
'T  is  COLUMBIA  calls  on  her  sous  to  be  free  ! 

Behold  !  on  yon  summits  "where  heaven  has  throned  her, 
How  she  starts  from  her  proud  inaccessible  seat  1 

With  nature's  impregnable  ramparts  around  her, 
And  tho  cataract's  thunder  and  foam  at  her  feet. 

In  the  breeze  of  her  mountains  her  loose  locks  are  shaken. 
While  the  soul-stirring  notes  of  her  warrior  song 

From  the  rocks  to  the  valley  re-echoe  "Awaken! 
Awaken,  ye  hearts  that  have  slumbered  too  long  !  " 

Yes,  Slavery,  too  long  did  your  tyranny  hold  us, 
In  a  vassalage  vile,  ere  its  weakness  was  known  ; 

Till  we  learned  that  the  links  of  the  chain  that  con 
trolled  us, 
Were  forged  by  Northern  dough-faces  alone. 

That  spell  is  destroyed,  and  no  longer  availing  ; 

Despised  as  detested,  pause  well  ere  ye  dare, 
To  cope  with  a  people  whose  spirits  and  feeling 

Are  roused  by  remembrance  and  steeled  by  despair. 

Go,  tame  the  wild  torrent,  or  stern,  with  a  straw, 

The  proud  surges  that  sweep  o'er  the  strand  that  con 
fined  them ; 

But  presume  not  again  to  give  freemen  a  law, 
Nor  think  with  the  chains  they  have  broken  to  bind 
them. 


9 


PATENT  CHIVALRY. 

TUNE  —  "Dandy  Jim  from  Caroline" 

A  Southern  bully,  Brooks  was  born  ; 
Our  Northern  rights  he  holds  in  scorn; 
And  luckless  negroes  hides  to  tan, 
This  Bully  Brooks  is  just  the  man. 

Hurrah !  for  Brooks  and  chivalry — 
This  sprig  of  patent  chivalry  ! 
For  who  can  ply  the  lash  like  he, 
This  pink  of  Southern  chivalry  ? 

He  thoroughly  had  learned  the  knack 
Of  welting  Sambo's  tawny  back, 
And,  fearless  of  poor  Sambo's  wrath, 
Might  safely  flog  him  half  to  death. 

This  glorious  son  of  chivalry! 
This  chip  of  Southern  chivalry ! 
Oh !  who  can  flog  with  hand  so  free, 
As  this  bold  son  of  chivalry  ? 

But  tiring  of  this  pleasant  game, 
And  bent  on  varying  the  same, 
He  formed  a  safe  and  easy  plan, 
To  flog  a  harmless  Free-state  man. 

This  prudent  son  of  chivalry  ! 
This  sprig  of  Southern  chivalry  ! 
Oh  !  who  so  circumspect  as  he, 
This  valiant  sprig  of  chivalry  ? 

For  like  his  brother  bullies  true, 
This  ruffian  knows  a  thing  or  two ; 
And  never  strikes  an  unarm'd  man, 
Unless  he 's  back'd  by  half  his  clan  ; 

For  that  is  Southern  chivalry, 
To  fall  on  five  to  one,  you  see. 
Oh !  who  can  fight  so  safe  as  he, 
This  prudent  son  of  chivalry  ? 


10 

He  knew  defeat  would  be  disgrace, 
So  dared  not  meet  him  face  to  face, 
As  gentleman  meets  gentleman  — 
Not  he ;  he  took  a  wiser  plan  : 

Ob  yes,  this  chip  of  chivalry — • 
This  choicest  sprig  of  chivalry  — 
Knew  five  to  one  would  safer  be 
For  sons  of  patent  chivalry. 

With  gallant  Keitt,  and  Douglass  tried, 
With  Toombs  and  Slidel  by  his  side, 
(For  fear  his  foe  should  be  too  much,) 
His  cane  he  manfully  did  clutch. 

This  brilliant  star  of  chivalry  ! 
This  gallant  sprout  of  chivalry  !        [three, 
Come  boys,  let 's  drink  with  three  times 
This  valiant  sprig  of  chivalry  ! 

A  pistol  and  a  bowie  knife 
To  aid  him  in  the  deadly  strife, 
Each  valiant  hero  trembling  pressed 
Beneath  the  foldings  of  his  vest, 

For,  oh  !  this  dreadful  man  might  be 
Too  much  for  Southern  chivalry : 
Oh,  horrible  !  to  think  that  he 
Might  lick  these  sprigs  of  chivalry  ! 

They  stole  along  with  cat-like  tread, 
The  blows  fell  fast  on  Sumner's  head, 
Till  senseless  on  the  floor  lay  he, 
Vanquished  by  Southern  chivalry. 

Three  cheers  for  Southern  chivalry, 
For  patent,  rampant  chivalry  ! 
No  valiant  knight  in  history 
Gould  match  our  Southern  chivalry. 

Then  let  them,  to  (heir  heart's  content, 
Use  canes  instead  of  argument ; 
For  every  one  of  Sumner's  knocks 
We  '11  pay  them  at  the  ballot  box. 


15 


BUCHANAN  AND  FREMONT. 

TUNE  —  "  Villikins  and  his  Dinah." 

As  Buchanan  was  walking  by  the  White  House  one  day, 
His  eyes  did  roll  upward,  and  thus  he  did  say  — 
"  I  am  looking  for  lodgings,  and  this  is  the  thing; 
So  I  guess  I  will  take  it  quite  early  next  spring." 

CHORUS  —  Singing  to  la  lal  la  ral  la  to  ral  lal  la. 

Then  bowing  quite  lowly  to  the  people  around, 
He  called  them  the  bravest  he  ever  had  found ; 
The  South  was  his  darling,  the  North  was  his  pride, 
And  in  speaking  of  Kansas  he  tenderly  sighed  — - 

CHORUS — Singing  to  la,  etc. 

"  I  am  yours,  my  dear  people,"  he  fervently  said  ; 
"And  'tis  for  that  reason  I  never  shall  wed. 
I  '11  be  your  protector  —  your's  truly  alone ; 
Your  joys  and  your  sorrows  shall  all  be  my  own.1' 

CHORUS  —  Singing  to  la,  etc. 

'T  was  thus  he  was  talking  sweet  things  to  the  crowd, 
When  the  voice  of  the  people  rose  up  very  loud : 
"  Here  comes  John  and  Jessie,  so  clear  out  the  way, 
'Tis  too  late  in  the  season  for  you  to  make  hay." 

CHORUS  —  Singing  to  la,  etc. 

"  We  go  for  free  Kansas,  free  press,  and  free  speech, 
And  many  great  things  that  freedom  doth  teach ; 
We  want  no  old  fogies  to  crush  us  with  wrong, 
So  clear  out  the  way  for  Jessie  and  John." 

CHORUS  —  Singing  to  la,  etc. 

Then  Buchanan,  with  weeping,  looked  round  on  the  crowd, 
But,  alas !  for  his  "feelinks,"  they  cried  very  loud  — 
"  Make  way  for  brave  Fremont,  our  hero,  make  way, 
You  can  ride  up  Salt  River  for  ten  cents  a  day." 

CHORUS  —  Singing  to  la,  etc.         .  . 


1G 


MORAL. 


Now  all  wire  pullers  take  warning  by  this, 

Ere  dreaming  of  gaining  political  bliss  — 

Do  n't  knock  at  the  White  House  on  Uncle  Sam's  Farm, 

Unless  Freedom  and  Jessie  do  hang  on  your  arm. 

CHORUS  —  Singing  to  la,  etc. 


RALLYING  SONG. 

BY    JR.  R.  RAYMOND. 

TUNE  —  "Marsellaise  Hymn" 

Behold !  the  furious  storm  is  rolling, 

Which  Border  Fiends,  confederates,  raise, 
The  Dogs  of  Wrar,  let  loose,  are  howling, 

And  lo  !  our  infant  cities  blaze. 
And  shall  we  calmly  view  the  ruin, 

While  lawless  force  with  giant  stride 

.Spreads  desolation  far  and  wide, 
In  guiltless  blood  his  hand  imbruing  ? 

Arise,  Arise,  ye  brave  ! 

And  let  our  war-cry  be  : 
Free  Speech,  Free  Press,  Free  Soil,  Free 

FRE-MONT  and  VICTORY  ! 

Oh,  Liberty  !  can  he  resign  thee, 

Who  once  has  felt  thy  generous  flame1? 
(pan  threats  subdue,  or  bolts  confine  thee  — 

Or  whips  thy  noble  spirit  tame  ? 
No  !  by  the  heavens  bright  bending  o'er  us 

We  've  called  our  Captain  to  the  van  — 

Behold  the  hour  —  Behold  the  man  ! 
Oh,  wise  and  valiant  go  before  us  ! 

Then  let  the  shout  again, 

Ring  out  from  sea  to  sea, 
Free  Speech,  Free  Press,  Free  Soil, Free  Men, 

FRE-MONT  and  VICTORY  ! 


17 

Hurrah,  Hurrah  !  from  hill  and  valley, 

Hurrah  from  prairie  wide  and  free  ! 
Around  our  glorious  Chieftain  rally, 

For  KANSAS  and  for  LIBERTY  ! 
Let  him  who  first  her  wilds  exploring, 

Her  virgin  beauty  gave  to  fame, 

Now  save  her  from  the  curse  and  shame 
Which  slavery  o'er  her  soil  is  pouring. 

Our  Standard  Bearer  then 

The  brave  Pathfinder  be  ! 
Free  Speech,  Free  Press,  Free  Soil,  Free  Men, 

FRE-MONT  and  VICTORY  ! 


FREEDOM. 

'  Free  soil,  free  men, 

Free  speech,  free  pen, 
Freedom  from  Slavery's  thrall ; 

Free  North,  free  East, 

Free  South,  free  West, 
Freedom  for  one  and  all ! 

Free  ports,  free  seas, 

Free  ships,  free  breeze  ; 
Free  homesteads  for  the  people ; 
Free  bells  on  every  steeple, 

Free  pulpits  and  free  preachers; 

(Three  cheers  for  all  the  Beechers;) 
Freedom  from  Southern  rooks : 
Freedom  from  Southern  "Brooks;" 

Free  schools,  free  books ; 

Freedom  to  worship  God, 
Freedom  to  read  his  Word ; 

Freedom's  star  spangled  banners 

Waving  o'er  gallant  Kansas, 
Freedom  from  border  smugglers  — 
(Three  groans  for  Pierce  and  Douglas !) 
Freemen  to  bear  the  battle  brunt, 
And,  rushing  to  the  battle  front, 

Fremont !  Fremont ! 


18 
THE  BATTLE  CRY. 

BY  W.  J.  STILLMAN. 

A  sleepless  host,  for  battle  burning, 
We  had  united  through  the  night, 

To  the  East  impatient  turning 
For  some  promise  of  the  light. 

Round  us  the  mists  drifted, 
High  were  all  hearts  lifted, 
Prayers  were  to  heaven  wafted — 
Prayers  for  freedom. 

Heroes  chafed  at  forced  inaction, 

Hearts  grew  sick  with  hope  deferred; 

Leaderless,  made  weak  by  faction, 
Now  despairing,  now  hope-stirred. 

Resolute  still  were  we, 
There  to  wiit  victory, 
Or  our  last  fight  to  see  — 
Fighting  for  freedom. 

But  at  length  the  red  light  streaming ; 

Driving  mists  and  gloom  away, 
Showed  the  hostile  armor  gleaming,. 

All  around  our  weak  array. 

Many  to  one  wrere  they, 
But  we  felt  no  dismay  ; 
"  Truth  fights  with  us  to-day  — 
Truth  strikes  for  freedom." 

"Give  us,  now,"  we  said,  "  a  captain — 
Some  true  man  to  lead  the  fight, 

One  whom  nature  made  a  chieftain, 
Strong  of  hand  and  quick  of  sight. 

Give  us  some  battle  cry  — 
Some  word  to  conquer  by  — 
Or,  shouting,  now  to  die, 
Fighting  for  freedom." 


19 


A  name  of  worth  the  desert  sent  us  — 
Fremont,  young,  and  brave,  and  true 

And  Romance  all  her  jewels  lent  us, 
To  set  it  on  our  banners  blue. 

Now  to  the  battle  set ! 
Now  let  the  foe  be  met ! 
Never  that  cry  forget — 

"  Fremont  and  freedom.'* 


FREMONT  GATHERING  SONG. 

AIR  —  "Come,  oh  come  with  me" 

Up  with  the  banner,  boys, 

Up  with  the  banner ;   * 
Unfurl  the  stars  and  stripes, 

Prairie  winds  fan  her. 

Steady  the  standard,  boys. 

Steady  the  standard ; 
Strong  winds  blow  on  it, 

Seaward  and  landward. 

Keep  the  ball  rolling,  boys, 

Keep  the  ball  rolling ; 
Never  we  '11  play  a  game 

Needs  better  bowling. 

Do  to-day's  duty,  boys, 

Do  to-day's  duty; 
Next  sun  that  shines  shall  show 

Dear  freedom's  duty. 

True,  firm,  and  steady,  boys, 

Fearless  and  steady ; 
Let  all  the  other  side 
Know  we  are  ready. 


20 

Truth  should  be  stronger,  boys, 
Truth  should  be  stronger ; 

Long  have  we  borne  the  shame  - 
Bear  it  no  longer. 

Hold  to  our  cause,  my  boys, 

Hold  to  it  ever ; 
Yield  not  a  single  foot ; 

Free,  now  or  never. 


FREMONT  RALLYING  SONG. 

TUNE  —  "The  Schoolmaster." 

Say,  ye  freemen,  who  shall  bo 
The  next  leader  of  the  free? 
Know  ye  who  could  fearless  dare 
Front  the  savage  and  the  bear? 
Who  can  scale  the  mountain  steeps  — 
Plow  theddftsand  bridge  the  deeps? 
Stern  in  purpose  —  wise  in  plan, 
Our  Fremont  is  just  the  man. 

When  the  waves  of  threatening  fate 
Rise  to  whelm  the  ship  of  State, 
Who  shall  speak  the  word  of  cheer, 
Clear  the  breakers  roaring  near? 
Spread  the  glorious  stripes  again, 
And  to  port  safely  attain? 
Say,  ye  freemen  —  well  ye  can  — 
If  Fremont  be  not  the  man  ? 

Rouse  ye,  then,  with  heart  and  hand. 
Freedom  be  to  all  the  land ! 
Break  the  haughty  tyrant's  rod  — 
'Tis  a  duty  owed  to  God! 
Wipe  the  blood  from  Kansas'  soil  — 
From  the  spoiler  take  the  spoil. 
Let  your  cry  of  rally  be  — 
Strike !  Fremont  and  victory  ! 


GET  OUT  OF  THE  WAY  OLD  BUCHANAN. 

TUNE  —  "Old  Dan  Tucker." 

Old  Buchanan  has  got  home,  sirs, 

Never  more  away  to  roam,  sirs, 

Says  he'll  take  the  White  House  chair,  sirs, 

If  our  votes  will  put  him  there,  sirs. 

Get  out  of  the  way,  Old  Buchanan, 
With  the  platform  that  you  stan'  on. 

Says,  if  we  '11  give  him  the  power, 
Blessings  on  us  he  will  shower, 
In  the  shape  of  shining  niggers, 
For  our  waiters  and  our  diggers ! 

Get  out  of  the  way,  etc. 

Says,  he'll  use  the  nation's  treasure, 
And  take  Cuba  at  his  leisure, 
With  or  without  Spain's  consent,  sir, 
And  old  Don  must  be  content,  sir, 

Get  out  the  way,  etc. 

Says",  that  island  with  its  slavery, 
And  its  bull-cockfighting  knavery, 
Must  be  part  of  our  slave  nation, 
If  he  gets  the  situation  ! 

Get  out  of  the  way,  etc. 

Says,  he  '11  stop,  throughout  the  nation, 

The  old  slavery  "agitation;  " 

If  one  talk  against  the  system, 

He  '11  have  Brooks  brought  out  to  fist  him ! 

Get  out  of  the  way,  etc. 

Says,  it  is  no  more  than  justice* 
To  sustain  the  filibusters, 
In  the  slave  regeneration, 
Of  the  Nicaragua  nation. 

Get  out  of  the  way,  etc. 


Says,  that  equal  pay  for  labor, 
Each,  in  common  with  his  neighbor, 
Should  receive,  throughout  the  earth,  sir, 
And  ten  cents  a  day  't  is  worth,  sir ! 

Get  out  of  the  way,  etc. 

Tells  the  the  old  deceitful  story, 
'Bout  the  nation's  territory  ; 
Means  the  ruffians  aye  shall  hold  it, 
To  whom  Pierce  and  Douglas  sold  it. 

Get  out  the  way,  etc. 

Say  no  more  to  us,  Buchanan ! 
We  know  all  the  planks  you  stan'  on; 
A  tyrant's  platform  and  a  doughface, 
In  the  White  House  shall  have  no  place. 

Get  out  the  way,  etc. 

Get  out  the  way!  Fremont 's  coming ! 
In  the  distance  see  him  Jooming  ! 
See  the  Bucks  on  each  side  scatter, 
While  they  know  not  what 's  the  matter. 

Get  out  the  way,  etc. 


FBEMONT  THE  CHOICE  OF  THE  NATION. 

TUNE  —  "The  Red,  White,  and  Blue," 

Oh!  Fremont's  the  choice  of  the  nation  — 

The  pride  of  the  fearless  and  free ! 
We  '11  drink  to  his  health  and  his  station, 

Though  Fillmore  has  come  o'er  the  sea. 
His  heart  beats  for  freedom  remaining 

On  the  soil  where  fond  liberty  grew; 
He  'a  for  our  pioneers  sustaining 

The  free  flag — the  red,  white,  and  blue. 


23 

There  are  lands  where  millions  are  yearning 

For  freedom  from  tyranny's  chain, 
While  to  Kansas  our  efforts  are  turning, 

To  keep  her  from  slavery's  stain. 
For  Fremont,  he  stands  with  devotion, 

And  swears  to  the  Union  he  's  true ; 
He  crosses  o'er  mountain  to  ocean, 

And  plants  there  the  red,  white  and  blue. 

No  sectional  questions  shall  sever 

The  bonds  that  our  forefathers  wrought; 
"  The  Union  forever  and  ever !  " 

Unsullied,  unstained,  and  unbought,  . 
This  watchword  from  Fremont  we  borrow, 

And  he  stands  by  his  promise  so  true ; 
Then -who  will  their  leader  not  follow, 

When  he  bears«the  red,  white,  and  blue  1 

Our  voices  unite,  then,  for  Union; 

The  stars  and  the  stripe?  float  above  ; 
Huzza,  all !  for  Fremont  and  Dayton, 

Huzza !  for  the  man  that  we  love  ! 
The  old  Union  ship,  when  well  guided, 

Will  prove  ever  sound,  staunch,  and  true, 
And  soon  will  the  storm  have  subsided, 

That  threatened  the  red,  white  and  blue. 


ALL  HAIL  TO  FREMONT ! 

BY   ELIZABETH   WHITTIER. 
^ 

AIR —  "  Buonaparte  crossing  the  Rhine.'1'' 

All  hail  to  Fremont !  Swell  the  lofty  acclaim 

Like  winds  from  the  mountains,  like  prairies  aflame ! 

Once  more  the  Pathfinder  is  forth  on  his  hunt, 

Clear  the  way  for  Free  Soil,  for  Free  Men  and  Fremont! 

We  '11  spurn  every  fetter,  we  '11  break  every  rod, 
And  Kansas  shall  bloom  like  the  Garden  of  God, 


24 

When  we  plant  the  white  banner  of  Freedom  upon  % 
And  cry  "To  the  rescue,  free  men  and  Fremont!" 

Oh !  the  land  that  we  love  shall  be  sacred  from  slaves, 
From  the  tyrant's  misrule  and  the  plunder  of  knaves  ; 
We  '11  baptize  the  Union  in  Liberty's  font, 
And  the  faith  of  our  fathers  shall  live  with  Fremont. 

Go,  brave  mountain  climber,  lead  on  in  the  path 
Where  the  people  shall  sweep  in  the  pride  of  their  wrath ! 
Who  shall  hinder  their  triumph,  if  God  so  appoint  ? 
Who  stay  the  bold  march  of  free  men  and  Fremont  ? 

Then  East,  West,  and  North  swell  the  lofty  acclaim 
Like  winds  from  the  mountains,  like  prairies  aflame  ! 
Clear  the  way,  the  Pathfinder  moves  on  in  our  front, 
And  our  hearts  shall  keep  time  to»the  march  of  Fremont ! 


JESSIE  FREMONT. 

AIR  —  "Jessie,  the  Flower  of  Dumblane." 

The  sun-burst  has  dawned  over  all  the  glad  mountains, 

While  Freedom  and  Glory  rise  up  hand  in  hand 
To  meet  our  young  children  from  Liberty's  fountains, 

With  Jessie,  sweet  Jessie,  the  flower  o'  the  land  ! 
How  blithe  is  the  summons  o'er  all  the  wide  nation, 

How  swells  the  bold  music  that  marshals  our  band ! 
He  comes  like  a  hero  to  fill  the  proud  station  — 

With  Jessie,  sweet  Jessie,  the  flower  o'  the  land  ! 

She 's  wise  and  she 's  prudent;  she  's  good  as  she 's  bonnie; 

For  virtue  and  valor  she  takes  a  brave  stand ; 
For  the  Chieftain's  White  Mansion  she  's  better  than  oriie, 

So  give  her  "  God  speed !  "  there,  the  flower  o'  the  land. 
Let  honest  hearts  greet  her,  and  victory  meet  her-— 

You  '11  never  repent  it — so  join  hand  in  hand, 
Till  firm  with  our  leader,  in  rapture,  we  seat  her — 

Our  noble  young  Jessie,  the  flower  o'  the  land ! 


25 

THE  WHITE  HOUSE  RACE. 

TONE  —  "Ccunptovm  Races" 

There  's  an  old  gray  horse  whose  name  is  Buck, 

Du  da,  du  da, 

His  name  was  Folly  and  his  sire  Bad  Luck, 

Du  da,  du  da  day. 

CHORUS  —  We  're  bound  to  work  all  night, 
We  're  bound  to  work  all  day, 
I  '11  bet  my  money  on  the  Mustang  Colt, 
Will  anybody  bet  on  the  Gray  ? 

The  Mustang  Colt  is  strong  and  young, 

Du  da,  du  da, 

His  wind  is  sound  and  his  knees  not  sprung, 

Du  da,  du  da  day. 

CHORUS  —  We  're  bound  to  etc. 

The  old  gray  horse  is  a  well-known  hack, 

Du  da,  du  da, 

He  's  long  been  fed  at  the  public  rack, 

Du  da,  du  da  day. 

CHORUS  —  We  're  bound  to,  etc. 

The  Mustang  is  a  full-blood  colt, 

Du  da,  du  da, 
lie  can  not  shy  and  he  will  not  bolt, 

Du  da,  du  da  day. 

CHORUS  —  We  're  bound,  etc. 

The  old  gray  horse,  when  he  tries  to  trot, 

Du  da,  du  da, 

Goes  round  and  round  in  the  same  old  spot, 

Du  da,  du  da  day. 

U   —  We  're  bound  to,  ete. 


The  Mustang  goes  at  a  killing  pace, 

Du  da,  du  d*» 
2 


He 's  bound  to  win  in  the  four  mile  race, 

Du  da,  du  da 

CHORUS  — We  're  bound  to,  etc. 

Then  do  your  best  with  the  old  gray  hack, 

Du  da,  du  da, 

The  Mustang  Colt  will  clear  the  track, 

Du  da,  du  da  day, 

CHORUS  —  We're  bound  to  work  all  night, 

We  're  bound  to  work  all  day;: 
I  '11  bet  my  money  on  the  Mustang 
You  'd  better  not  bet  on  the  gray. 


UNCLE  JAMES. 

TUNE—  "Uncle  Ned." 

There  was  an  old  gentleman  whose  name  was  James  ; 

He  was  born  long  ago,  long  ago; 
He  had;  like  other  people,  some  other  names, 

But  that  didn't  save  him,  you  know. 

CHORUS — Then  lay  down  the  fiddle  and  the  bow, 

Take  up  the  shovel  and  the  hoe, 
And  we  '11  dig  a  big  hole  for  old  Uncle  James,, 
And  bury  him  deep  and  low. 

IB  the  federal  ranks  long  time  he  stood, 

And  once  he  was  heard  to  shout 
That  "  if  he  had  a  drop  of  democratic  blood, 

He  rd  be  glad  to  let  it  out." 

Then  lay  down,  etc. 

To  Ostend  once,  went  this  old -gentleman, 

And  this  honest  scheme  did  reveal  — 
"We  '11  buy  Spain's  daughter,  Cuba,  if  we  can, 

And  what  we  can't  buy  well  steal/* 

Then  lay  down,  eto» 


27 

When  he  'd  grown  old  the  Democrats  thought, 
They  'd  take  Uncle  James  by  the  nose, 

And  put  him  in  the  front  of  a  fight  they  fought 
With  slavery's  host  of  foes. 

Then  lay  down,  etc. 

But  poor  Uncle  James  was  too  old  to  fight, 

And  too  old  to  run  away, 
So  Uncle  James  woke  one  morning  bright, 

And  found  he  had  lost  the  day. 

Then  lay  down,  etc. 


POLITICAL  JUDGMENT  DAY. 

As  composed  for,  and  sung  by, 

ME.  S.  M.  FASSETT. 

AIR—  "Old  Dog  Tray.n 

The  day  of  grace  is  past, 

And  reck'ning  comes  at  last, 
The  bold  and  the  daring  ones  in  vice  shrink  away, 

But  tricks  will  not  avail. 

In  guilt  and  fear  they  pale 
Before  the  people's  judgment  day. 

CHORUS. 

Douglas  and  Pierce  have  not  been  faithful. 
The  "  White  House"  has  led  them  astray, 
They're  our  country's  direst  foes, 
Have  destroyed  her  calm  repose; 
But  they'll  ne'er  forget  this  reck'ning  day. 

We'll  remember  who  are  true, 
And  we'll  hold  them  up  to  view  — 
Their  courage  for  the  right  and  rebuking  the  wrong, 
But  Buchanan  and  his  clan 
Will  be  routed  to  a  man, 
"Before  the  mighty  — *rrtoedefla*s  throng. 


CHORUS. 

Fremont  and  Dayton  'will  be  faithful; 
Slavery  cannot  make  them  a  prey. 
They're  men  of  noble  mind; 
The  path  of  right  they'll  find 
To  usher  in  the  glorious  day. 

"Uncle  Sam"  has  trained  his  boys 

To  cherish  Freedom's  joys,  [earth 

Bequeathed  by  the  brave  and  the  choicest  men  oi 

But  the  rulers  of  to-day, 

By  their  foul,  despotic  sway, 
Disgrace  the  land  that  gave  them  birth. 

CHORUS. 

Freemen  to  their  trust  must  be  faithful; 
.Yield  not  to  border-ruffian  sway. 
But  united  to  a  man, 
With  Fremont,  at  the  van, 
Proclaim  the  people's  judgment  day. 


"  Uncle  Sam  "  provides  a 

For  each  son,  whose  sturdy 
Will  plow,  sow  and  reap,  and  adorn  the  virgin  soil, 

But  the  land  to  freedom  >sworn, 

Must  by  ruthless  hands  be  torn, 
And  sacrificed  to  unpaid  toil  ! 

CHORUS. 

The  South  to  her  pledge  has  not  been  faithful: 
Kansas  she  seeks  for  a  prey. 
But  the  North,  too  has  her  right; 
To  secure  it  she  will  fight, 
Till  we  usher  in  the  glorious  day  ! 

Ye  sons  of  freedom  wake  ! 

The  chains  of  party  brake,  [true 

And  show  a  gazing  world  that  to  Liberty  you're 

The  "  White  House  "  has  no  place 

That  a  bachelor  can  grace, 
Bo  with  "Jessie  "  we'll  adorn  it 


CHORUS. 

"  Fremont  and  Jessie  "  will  be  faithful ; 
"Union" — "  of  hearts"  be  their  sway, 
'T.ween  the  sunny,  balmy  South, 
And  the  steadfast,  busy  North, 
The  dawn  of  FREEDOM'S  GLORIOUS  DAY! 


SONG  FOR  THE  PEOPLE. 

TUNE  —  "Tippeca?ioe  and  Tyler  too." 

Have  you  heard  of  one  Fremont,  mont,  mont, 

So  honest  and  true  ; 

He's  just  the  man  that  '11  do  all  he  can 
For  liberty  here  and  in  Kansas  too  ! 
For  liberty  here  and  in  Kansas  too'! 
And  with  him  we'll  beat  old  Buck,  Buck,  Buck, 

And  his  slavery  crew  ! 
And  with  him  we  '11  beat  old  Buck ! 

Have  you  heard  of  Dayton,  true,  true,  true  ? 

One  of  the  very  few, 

Whose  course  has  been  plain  and  always  the  same, 
For  freedom  of  speech  and  action  too ! 
For  freedom  of  speech  and  action  too  f 
And  with  him  we  '11  beat  old  Breck,  Breck,  Breck, 

And  his  chivalry  too  ! 
And  with  him  we  '11  beat  old  Breck. 

Did  you  hear  that  gun  from  Maine,  Maine,  Maine, 

Resounding  the  country  through? 
For  Hamlin  's  not  a  man  to  work  for  a  clan 

Who  are  freedom's  worst  and  bitterest  foe ! 

Who  are  freedom's  worst  and  bitterest  foe ! 

For  with  him  we  Ml  beat  old  Buck,  Buck,  Buck, 

And  his  slavery  crew! 
And  with  him  we'll  beat  old  Buck. 


30 

Have  you  heard  of  P.  S.  Brooks,  Brooks,  Brooks, 

With  his  gutta  percha  cane  ? 
For  he  struck  a  blow,  laid  our  champion  low ; 
But  it  roused  the  nation  for  once  and  again! 
But  it  roused  the  nation  for  once  and  again ! 
And  it  '11  take  a  mighty  big  cane,  cane,  cane, 

Slavery's  cause  to  gain! 
For  it  '11  take  a  mighty  big  cane. 

Then  let  freedom  be  our  watchword,  word,  word, 

And  liberty  too ! 
For  freedom  is  dear —  Southrons  can  't  rule  here-, 

For  we  're  not  their  niggers,  that 's  very  clear! 

For  we  're  not  their  niggers,  that 's  very  clear ! 
For  they  sha  n't  govern  us,  that 's  so,  so,  so ! 
For  they  sha  n't  govern  us,  that 's  so  ! 


FREMONT  AND  FREEDOM. 

TUNE —  "Oh  Susanna." 

Our  freedom  is  a  precious  boon, 

By  our  forefathers  given  ; 
Then  wide  awake,  my  lads,  or  soon 

'T  will  from  our  grasp  be  riven. 
Our  candidates  are  on  the  track, 

Then  bravely  round  them  rally, 
And  let  our  war  cry,  echoed  back 

From  mountain,  plain,  and  valley, 

Be  for  Fremont, 

Fremont  and  Dayton  still, 
From  mountain,  plain,  and  valley, 

From  every  vale  and  hill. 

Old  Buck  and  Breck  are  in  the  field, 
Both  willing  tools  of  tyrants, 

And  shall  we,  boys,  our  country  yield, 
To  such  unsafe  aspirants  ? 

Ring  out  our  answer  loud  and  clear, 


31 


O'er  prairie,  rock  and  river, 
44  We  '11  ne'er  resign  our  birthright  dear, 
But  fight  for  freedom  ever," 

Shout  then  for  Fremont, 
Fremont  and  Dayton  still, 

From  mountain,  plain  and  valley, 
From  every  vale  and  hill. 

Our  foes  pretend  they  're  sure  to  win, 

But  faith  they  needn't  dream  on't; 
We  're  bound  to  have  free  Kansas  in, 

Free  will,  free  speech,  arid  Fremont! 
We'  11  fear  no  truckling  doughfaced  crew, 

With  Buck  and  Breck  to  lead  'em, 
But  shout  our  cry  the  Union  through, 

Our  battle  cry  of  freedom. 

Shout  then  for  Fremont,  etc. 

While  gallant  Fremont  leads  the  van, 

With  Dayton  for  his  second, 
The  downfall  of  the  tyrant  clan, 

May  certainly  be  reckon'd^ 
Then  to  the  breeze  our  banner  fling, 

And  rally,  rally  under; 
While  still  our  battle  cry  shall  ring, 

In  peals  of  mighty  thunder. 

Shout  then  for  Fremont,  etc. 


THE  PASS  OF  THE  SIERRE. 

From  the  National  Era. 
TUNE  —  "Auld  Lang  Syne" 

All  night  above  their  rocky  bed 
They  saw  the  stars  march  slow; 

The  wild  Sierre  overhead, 
The  desert's  death  below. 


The  Indian  from  his  lodge  of  bark, 
The  grey  bear  from  his  den, 

Beyond  their  camp  fires  wall  of  dark, 
Glared  on  the  mountain  men. 

Still  upward  turned  with  anxious  strain,. 

Their  leaders  sleepless  eye, 
Where  splinters  of  tie  mountain  chain 

Stood  blank  against  the  sky. 

The  night  waned  slow ;  at  last  a  glowr 

A  gleam  of  sudden  fire, 
Shot  up  behind  the  walls  of  snow, 

And  tipped  each  icy  spire. 

"Up,  men!  "  he  cried;  "yon  rocky  comb 
To-day,  please  God,  we  'II  pass, 

And  look  from  Winter's  frozen  home 
On  Summer's  flowers  and  grass!" 

They  set  their  faces  to  the  blast, 

They  trod  th'  eternal  snow, 
And  faint-worn,  bleeding,  hailed  at  last 

The  promised  land  below. 

Behind,  they  saw  the  snow-cloud  tossed 

By  many  an  icy  horn, 
Before,  warm  valleys,  wood-ernbossed, 

And  green  with  vines  and  corn. 

They  left  the  Winter  at  their  backs, 

To  flap  his  baffled  wing, 
And  downward,  with  the  cataracts, 

Leaped  to  the  lap  of  Spring. 

Strong  leader  of  that  mountain  band  I 

Another  task  remains, 
To  break  from  Slavery's  desert  landi 

A  path  to  Freedom's  plains. 

The  winds  are  wild,  the  way  is  drear, 


33 

Yet  flashing  through  the  night, 
Lo !  icy  ridge  and  rocky  spear 
Blaze  out  in  morning  light! 

Rise  up,  Fremont !  and  go  before ; 

The  Hour  must  have  its  man ; 
Put  on  the  hunting-shirt  once  more, 

And  lead  in  Fredom's  van !  j.  a.  w, 


THE  VOICE  OF  FREEDOM. 

AIR  —  «  The  Mellow  Horn." 

The  voice  of  Freedom  loudly  calls 

On  all  the  true  and  brave, 
From  slavery's  destroying  land, 

Her  fair  domain  to  save  — 
"  Arise  and  let  my  empire  stretch, 

From  widening  sea  to  sea." 
Her  soil  forever  consecrate, 

To  blessed  liberty. 

To  Liberty, 
To  blessed  Liberty, 

To  Liberty, 
To  blessed  Liberty. 

Her  banner  is. unfolded  wide, 

Of  red  and  purest  white; 
Her  lofty  countenance  divine, 

Shines  like  her  armor  bright. 
America's  true-hearted  sons, 

Her  warriors  brave  shall  be ; 
Her  battle  shout  victorious, 

Fremont  and  Liberty ! 

Oh,  Liberty, 
Fremont  and  Liberty, 

Oh,  Liberty, 
Fremont  and  Liberty. 


Let  freemen  hasten  to  her  side, 

And  raise  her  banner  high ; 
Free  speech  beneath  our  domes  to  have, 

Free  soil  beneath  our  sky. 
Let  bleeding  Kansas'  fertile  plains, 

A  land  of  freedom  be ; 
And  let  this  circled  Union  cry 

Fremont  and  Liberty  ! 

Oh,  Liberty, 
Fremont  and  Liberty, 

Oh,  Liberty, 
Fremont  and  Liberty. 


TO  JOHN  0.  FREMONT. 

AIR — "Dance  Boatman,  Dance" 

Champion  of  freedom  !  hail  to  the  ! 

A  million  eyes  with  pride  will  flame, 
To  see  the  goddess  Liberty 

Adorn  her  standard  with  thy  name. 

Then  hail !  Fremont  hail ! 
To  preside  o'er  this  mighty  nation, 

For  the  people's  choice, 

With  one  glad  voice 
Will  call  you  to  that  station. 

Ho  !  then  voters  ho ! 
For  Fremont  and  Dayton  we  '11  all  go. 

That  glorious  flag  of  stripes  and  stars, 
Borne  Westward  by  thy  daring  hand, 

Through  tempests,  and  o'er  mountain  bars, 
And  planted  on  Pacific's  strand. 

Then  hail !  Fremont  hail !  etc. 

Columbus  of  the  golden  West ! 
As  he  returned  from  Salvador, 


35 

So  thou  by  jealousy  oppressed, 
The  path  of  honor  traveled  o'er, 

Then  hail  I  Fremont  hail !  etc. 

But  time  Is  just;  and  glory  now 
With  busy  fingers  joyful  weaves 

A  diadem  to  grace  thy  brow, 

Of  myrtle  boughs  and  laurel  leaves, 

Then  hail !  Fremont  hail !  etc. 

Young  Alexander  of  the  age  ! 

Lay  thou  aside  thy  sword  and  shield, 
Leave  tempest's  wrath  and  Indian  rage, 

To  serve  upon  a  nobler  field. 

Then  hail !  Fremont  hail !  etc, 

That  field  thy  country's  sacred  soil  — 
The  Canaan  of  the  human  race  — 

Made  by  the  Revolvtion's  toil, 

True  freedom's  only  dwelling  place. 

Then  hail!  Fremont  hail!  etc. 


CAMPAIGN  SONG. 

AIR —  "Dearest  May." 

The  South  once  struck  for  liberty, 

And  played  the  patriot's  part, 
But  like  some  ladies,  now  she  keeps 

The  cotton  next  her  heart. 
And  now  the  days  of  all  her  friends  — 

"  Black  Douglas,"  "  Bully  Brooks," 
And  "  Uncle  Butler,"  all  are  told, 

And  black  her  future  looks. 

Then  shout  with  joyous  cheer! 

Let  all  the  people  hear ! 
For  brave  Fremont  shall  lead  the  front, 

And  be  our  pioneer. 


36 


Soon  shall  the  fame  of  Franklin  Pierce 

In  dark  oblivion  fade  — 
Melt  like  the  candy,  short  and  sweet. 

For  which  that  cent  was  paid. 
Buchanan,  though  no  doubt  a  "  trump," 

"Runs  with"  a  bad  machine, 
And  ne'er  shall  in  the  old  "  White  House," 

As  President  be  seen. 

The  shout,  etc. 

Besides  he  has  no  dearer  self, 

No  partner  of  his  soul, 
While  Fremont 's  got  a  "  better  half," 

And  what  must  be  the  whole! 
She  in  the  old  "  White  House"  shall  send 

Sweet  music  through  the  aisles, 
And  like  a  Jessiemine  will  wreath 

Its  porch  with  flowing  smiles. 

Then  shout,  etc. 

We  want  no  doughface  now,  with  all 

The  faults  of  North  and  South, 
Whose  principles  are  hard  to  find, 

As  was  the  nigger's  rnouth. 
We  want  no  loco  who  shall  choose 

His  cut-throat  "Buchaneers," 
O'er  freedom's  fertile  plains  to  sow 

Her  soil  with  blood  and  tears. 

Then  shout,  etc. 

We  want  no  Southerner,  who  's  learned 

'Mong  slaves  to  rule  the  free, 
And  studied  liberty  while  serfs 

Before  him  bowed  the  knee; 
We  want  a  man  to  stem  the  tide  — 

The  Stygian  tide  of  sin  ! 
And  bid  the  "  Reign  of  Terror"  cease, 

Which  rose  when  Pierce  "  went  in." 

Then  shout,  eto. 


37 


There  comes  a  chief  from  sunset  land, 

From  far  off  shores  of  gold  — • 
A  man  whose  mind  arid  soul  is  cast 

In  Nature's  noblest  mould. 
And  freedom's  heart  exulting  throbs, 

While  from  her  banner'd  van, 
Like  voice  of  many  waters,peals 

The  cry  —  "Behold  the  man]  " 

Then  shout,  etc. 


THE  FOUR  YEARS'  RACE. 

TUNE  —  "  Few  Days." 

The  four  years'  race  is  to  be  run, 

In  a  few  days,  a  few  days, 
By  slavery's  hack  it  can't  be  won, 

Oh!  take  "Buck"  home, 
"Buck's"  wind  was  hurt  on  the  federal  track, 

In  his  young  days,  his  young-  days, 
And  slavery's  load  has  strained  his  back-/ 
Oh !  take  him  home. 

For  freedom's  colt  is  training, 

For  a  few  days,  a  few  days, 
He'll  run  without  spur  or  reining :* 

Oh!  take  "Buck"  home. 

"Old  Buck"  has  fed  at  the  public  rack, 
So  many  days,  so  many  days, 
When  he  ought  to  trot,  he  's  sure  to  rack: 

Oh  !  take  him  home. 
A  hack  that's  fed  on  fed'ral  oats, 

Will  find  too  late,  find  too  late, 
It  ain't  the  fit  for  winning  votes: 

Oh !  take  him  home. 

For  freedom's  colt  is  training,  etc. 


S3 


'Tis  cruel  to  run  so  old  a  hack, 

In  a  few  days,  in  a  few  days* 
His  shoes  are  loose,  no  spine  in  his  back, 
Oh  !  take  "  Buck  "  home. 
Our  free  mountain  colt  will  win  the  field, 

In  a  few  days,  a  few  days, 
And  slavery's  minions  will  have  to  yield, 
Oh !  take  them  home. 

For  we  've  a  colt  in  training,  etc, 

Next  November  when  we  get  the  news, 

In  a  few  days,-a  few  days, 
Take  away  his  grain,  pull  off  his  shoes, 

And  send  him  home. 
Poor  old  hack  we  '11  send  him  to  grass, 

In  a  few  days,  a  few  days, 
On  a  Michigan  prairie  with  old  Cass, 
Oh !  take  him  home. 

For  we  Ve  a  colt  in  training,  etc. 

A  bachelor  President  was  ne'er  seen  yet, 

In  our  days,  in  our  days, 
And  what  is  more,  won't  be,  I  '11  bet, 

For  he 's  going  home. 
Such  a  one  horse  team  would  look  forlorn, 

In  our  days,  in  our  days, 
We  '11  give  him  "  Jessie  "  as  sure  he's  born- 
Oh !  do  take  him  home. 

For  we  've  a  colt  in  training,  etc. 


A  NEW  SONG  TO  AN  OLD  TUNE. 

BY  C.  C.  DAWSON. 

AIR —"Yankee  Doodle." 

FREE  SOIL  we  claim  for  Freedom's  sons, 
No  more  of  slave-cursed  acres ; 

For  those  who  toil  should  own  the  soil, 
Be  of  its  fruits  partakers. 


39 

CHORUS: — "Old  Buck"  so  blue, 

And  Fillmore,  too, 
Have  both  vile  traitors  been,  sirs ! 
Catch  up  the  shout, 
And  ring  it  out, 
FREMONT,  Free  soil,  Free  men  sirs! 

Free  speech  and  press,  those  brothers  twain, 

In  Kansas  lack  protection, 
And  though  they  long  have  suffered  wrong, 

We  '11  right  it  after  'lection. 
The  types  that  in  the  rivers  lie, 

Thrown  there  for  serving  Freedom, 
Washed  clean  and  bright,  may  come  to  light 
Some  day  when  Truth  shall  need  'em, 

"Old  Buck"  so  blue,  etc. 

We  heed  the  cry  in  Kansas  raised, 

Freemen  like  slaves  are  treated  — 
Their  houses  burned,  their  just  rights  spurned ! 

Though  wronged,  they're  not  defeated. 
A  coward  crew  fair  Lawrence  sacked, 

With  S.  and  A.  to  lead  'em. 
(Those  names  too  long  and  vile  for  song  — 

For  any  song  of  Freedom.) 

That  border  horde,  their  acts  might  shame 

Our  Fathers'  base  oppressors, 
And  in  their  turn  they,  too,  shall  learn 

How  fares  it  with  transgressors. 
Who  love  the  name  of  Bunker  hill, 

Just  think  of  this,  and  con  it, 
That  TOOMBS  declares,  and  madly  swears, 

His  slaves  he  '11  muster  on  it ! 

We  've  had  enough  of  threats  like  this, 

We  '11  patient  be  no  longer, 
And,  if  with  canes  they  beat  our  brains, 

We'll  send  them  something  stronger. 
Fremont  shall  keep  our  Western  plains,—   . 

He  was  the  first  to  cross  them, — 


40 

From  slavery  free,  and  soon  there  '11  be 
A  railroad  built  across  them. 

We'll  send  him  on  to  Washington, 

To  be  the  White  House  lessee, 
And  when  our  own  have  older  grown, 

We  '11  name  a  state  for  Jessie ! 
Then  let  us  rise,  the  victory  's  ours; 

We'll  work  and  vote  to  win  it, 
For  righteous  laws  we  make  our  cause, 

And  all  our  hearts  are  in  it. 

"  Old  Buck  "  so  blue,  etc 


THE  FREEMEN  OF  THE  NORTH. 

TUNE—  "Auld  Lang  Sync." 

While  Kansas'  murdered  freemen  lie 

On  every  sunny  plain, 
And  blazing  homes  light  up  her  sky 

Like  death-fires  for  the  slain; 
While  Southern  treason  rages  high, 

And  grows  the  deadly  feud, 
The  North  sends  back  her  battle  cry  — 
"We  will  not  be  subdued!" 

The  South  may  send  her  champions  out, 
Her  cowards  armed  with  canes, 

The  freemen  of  the  North  fear  not 
Her  tyrants  or  her  chains ; 

And  when  she  lifts  her  red  right  hand 
With  brothers '  blood  imbrued, 

We  scorn  her  boasting  and  her  threats  — 
"We  will  not  be  subdued  !" 

A  mighty  army  go  we  forth, 

With  Fremont  in  the  van, 
To  wage  the  warfare  of  the  North 

For  freedom  and  for  man; 


41 


And  he  who  sought  the  Western  sea 

Through  wilds  of  solitude, 

Shall  lead  us  on  to  Victory — 

"We  will  cot  be  subdued!" 


THE  BACHELOR  CANDIDATE. 

AIR  —  "Jeanette  and  Jeanot" 

It 's  time  to  be  doing,  the  play  has  begun, 
There's  mischief  a  brewing  as  sure  as  a  gun ! 
The  Buck  and  Breck  noodles  are  stupidly  bent 
On  choosing  a  Bach  for  our  next  president ;  ' 

A  bachelor  who,  like  his  species  you  know, 
Is  afraid  of  the  girls  and  to  union  a  foe; 
Then  up  and  be  doing,  for  danger  is  rife  — 
A  man  is  but  moonshine  who  hasn't  a  wife. 

For  a  fusty  old  codger  who  ne'er  —  as  'tis  said— • 
Had  children  to  speak  of,  and  never  was  wed, 
To  be  our  chief  ruler,  it  must  be  confess'd, 
Is  doing  up  matters  in  mighty  bad  taste. 

Imagine  him  in  the  White  House  —  if  you  can  — 
With  all  things  arranged  on  the  bachelor  plan ; 
Not  a  petticoat  in  it  to  lend  it  a  charm, 
Nor  a  bright  smile  of  woman  to  keep  the  place  warm. 

In  festoons  the  cobwebs  are  clustering  round, 
All  things  in  confusion  from  attic  to  ground, 
Chairs,,  sofas,  and  tables  with  dust  cover'd  o'er, 
While  quids  and  cigar  stumps  embellish  the  floor. 

Just  think  what  queer  things  his  receptions  would  be : 
Uncouth  gander  parties,  as  all  must  agree, 
For  a  house  with  no  mistress,  a  place  is,  I  ween, 
Where  no  well-bred  lady  would  wish  to  be  seen. 


42 

With  pride  we  can  point  to  our  own  candidate, 
Who  doubled  his  value  by  taking  a  mate. 
And  found  in  his  Jessie  a  treasure  more  bright, 
Than  all  Mariposa  will  e'er  bring  to  light. 

Come  on,  %oys,  we  won't  go  for  Ccelebs —  that's  flat, 
He  's  only  a  unit  and  cypher  at  that  ; 
So  we  '11  march  to  the  polls  with  an  unbroken  front, 
And  give  our  support  to  the  gallant  Fremont] 


REPUBLICAN  SONG, 

AIR —  "Bonny  Doon.n 

The  time  lias  come  when  truth  and  right, 
Must  wrestle  hard  with  wrong  and  might  — 
When  men  with  noble  hearts  to  feel 
For  human  woe  and  human  weal  — 
When  men  who  love  "  our  country's  "  name, 
And  seek  for  her  enduring  fame 
Must  stand  together,  side  by  side, 
To  save  the  country  of  our  pride. 

Now  o'er  her  verdant  vales  and  hills 
There  hangs  a  cloud  of  threat'ning  ills, 
Afar  from  o'er  the  sea  has  come 
A  martial  sound;  and  war  at  home, 
By  "  border  ruffians  "  ruthless  hand, 
Would  spread  destruction  o'er  the  land. 
Then  rouse  yei  brothers,  strong  and  brave; 
Arouse  I  our  glorious  land  to  save. 

We  need  a  leader  true  and  tried  : 
A  noble  one  we  've  found  to  guide; 
A  man  with  fearless  heart  and  warm, 
He 's  just  the  man  to  brave  the  storm. 
He  who  o'er  Eocky  Mountain  snows 
Has  pressed,  will  frighten  freedom's  foes. 
Then  rouse  ye,  brothers !  hand  in  hand, 
For  Fremont  and  for  freedom  stand. 


43 


CAMPAIGN  SONG. 

Written  for  the  Rochester  Young  Men's  Republican  Club. 
TUNE  —  "Jordan." 

Hurrah !  boys,  hurrah !  we  have  met  in  a  cause, 

That  we  may  be  proud  of  sustaining; 
For  Liberty's  fate  bides  the  victory  great. 

And  that  we  are  quite  sure  of  gaining. 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  and  give  a  loud  cheer, 
For  FREMONT  the  brave  is  a  coining ; 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  and  let  the  people  hear, 
Old  buck  will  be  rowing'  up  the  river  next  year. 

There 's  a  stain  on  the  banner  that  floats  o'er  our  land, 

And  all  the  wide  world  can  behold  it ; 
And  we  hang  down  the  head  when  we  think  of  the  dead, 

Who  first  in  its  glory  did  unfold  it. 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  etc. 

But  that  stain  we  '11  remove,  and  that  banner  shall  wave, 

The  flag  of  the  free  and  the  daring; 
And  the  nations  shall  look  to  Columbia's  sons, 

And  honor  the  flag  they  are  bearing. 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  etc. 

We  're  bound  to  have  Kansas  come  in  a  Free  State, 
No  matter  what  the  South  may  be  saying; 

We'll  fight  against  wrong  with  an  arm  that  is  strong, 
And  with  hearts  that  know  not  dismaying. 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  etc. 

So  give  us  your  hand,  and  together  we  '11  fight, 

Our  country  from  shame  to  deliver ; 
Our  FREMONT  is  strong,  and  he  '11  send  before  long 

Both  Fill  more  and  Buck  up  the  river. 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  etc. 


44: 


All  of  Liberty's  sons  are  with  us,  my  boys, — • 
As  for  Brooks  and  the  butlies  accordin', — 

Why  early  next  spring  as  sure  as  any  thing, 
They  '11 -stand  on  the  father  side'qf  Jordan. 

Then  wake  up,  my  boys,  etc. 


JOHN  C.  FREMONT  'S  COMING. 

TUNE—  "Old  Dan  Tucker." 

Come,  let 's  sing  a  song  quite  jolly 
For  an  end  to  reign  of  folly ; 
Frank  Pieree's  jig  is  nearly  up, 
Tho'  bitterly  he's  filled  our  cup. 

Clear  the  track ! 

Clear  the  track ! 

Clear  the  track!  John  Fremont's  coming, 
And  he'll  set  the  'brascals  running! 

Those  foul  deeds  on  plains  of  Kansas 
Have  been  enough  to  raise  our  "danders" — 
But  there  we  '11  plant  bright  freedom's  standard. 
And  have  a  man  to  lead  the  vanguard. 

Clear  the  track,  etc. 

November  fourth  will  tell  a  story, 
That  will  be  a  day  of  glory; 
For  best  interests  of  all  nations, 
And  good  folk's  in  every  station. 

Clear  the  track,  etc. 

Border  ruffians,  filibusters, 
Will  be  swept  by  strong  Nor' westers ; 
Bully  Brooks  and  all  such  cattle 
Fainifeiess  in  this  ballot  battle. 

Clear  the  track ! 

Clear  the  track  ! 

Clear  the  track!  John  Fremont's  coming, 
And  he  '11  set  the  'brascals  running  ' 


45 


FREEDOM  AND  FREMONT. 

AIR  —  "A  warrior's  heart  for  battle  burns." 

Fcr  Fremont  now,  our  candidate, 

Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 
•To  place  him  in  the  chair  of  state, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
He's  true  as  steel,  an  honest  man, 
^  better  show  us  if  you  can, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 

We  spread  our  banners  to  the  sky, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
Free  speech,  Fremont,  and  liberty, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
Frank  Pierce's  place  is  under  deck, 
And  so  't  will  be  with  "  Buch  and  Breck," 

Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  -hurrah  ! 

Of  demagogues  we  've  had  enough, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
Douglas  and  Pierce;  Oh  !  horrid  stuff! 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
We  're  sick  of  all  their  brawling  fuss ; 
An  honest  man  's  the  man  for  us, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  etc. 

Fremont 's  the  man  the  people  want, 

Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 
We're  tired  of  locofoco  cant, 

Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 
We  nail  our  colors  to  the  mast 
And  shout —  Our  Country,  first  and  last, 

Hurrah !  hurrah  !  etc. 

For  Fremont,  then,  three  cheers,  my  boy»t 
Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 


We  '11  work  for  him,  the  people's  choice, 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah ! 
The  People's  President  he  '11  be, 
Hurrah  !  for  Fremont's  victory. 

Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  1 
Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah! 


YE  SEVEN  POOEE  TRAVELERS. 

A  Mournful  Tale. 

Te  pu-pu-poore  travelers  seven  once  ca-ca-came, 
Whome  gig-gig-grievyons  disasters  be  fuf-fuf-fell ; 

To  a  stut-tut-tream  I  will  afterwards  nun-nun-name, 
And  thus  their  mischances  did  tut-tut-tut-tell. 

YE  FIRSTE  POORE  TRAVELER. 

My  name,  sir,  is  pup-pup-Preston  S.  Bub-bub-rooks ; 

I've  but  little  more  tut-tut-time  to  re  mum-mum- main 
I  'm  out  or  or  every  man's  bub-bub-books, 

Be  ca-ca-cause  I  "  raised  ca-ca-Cane !  " 

YE  SECONDE  POORE  TRAVELER. 

I'm  bib-bib-Butler — of  fuf-fuf-Pharaoh's  house, 

I  dud-dud-dream'd  that  my  "relative"  sis-sis-s>ungt 

And  mum-mum-wzy  head  then  went  in  the  nu-nu-nu-aoose. 
Oh,  I  hope  I  shall  nun-nun-never  be  buh-huh-A*»t£. 

YE  THIRD  POORE  TRAVELER. 

I  fuf-fuf-find  myself,  sir,  at  a  lul-lul-loss; 

My  nun-nun-name,  you  know,  sir,  is  kuk-kuk-kuk-Ca^ 
I  always  have  wuk-wuk-worked  like  a  huh-huh-hcss 

But"!  tut-tutrturri  out  to  be  but  an  an-an-an-oss/ 

YE  FOURTH  POORE  TRAVELER. 

And  Aw  am  that  old  Bub-bub-bub-Buchanier ; 
Aw  lul-luMofcg 'Have  been  wishing  tb  ru 


But  Aw  trip  so,  and  stul-sful-stumble,  Aw  fuf-fuf-fear. 
That  with  the  next  iui-M-fall  Aw  am  dead-dead-done  j 

YE  FIFTH  POORE  TRAVELER. 

I'm  Mem-mem-Millard  ;  I  ho-ho-ho-hope  I  shall  win  y 
I  never  can  r-r-r-run,  I  con  fuf-fuf-fess, — 

But  there  mem-mem-7?«#y  be  a  way  to  gig-gig-get  in  j 
I  th-th-think  I  shall  try  The  Ex-pup-pup-press! 

YE  SIXTH  POORE  TRAVELER. 

Sir,  I  am  the  dud-dug-Douglas  the  tut-tut-tme  ; 

And  I  'm  lul-lul-like  Alexander  the  gu^-gug-Great ; 
There's  nun-nun-nothing  that  I  can  su-su-su-" subdue," 

And  I  shall  die  ded-ded-drunk  sure  as  fuf-fuf-fate  I 

YE  SEVENTH  POORE  TRAVELER. 

Aw  'm  the  pup-pup-President !  ah,  dwop  a  tut-tut-tear  f 
Am  'm  vewy  dis  tut-tut-twess'd  in  maw-maw-mind; 

Tha've  ended  maw  w-w-w-wicked  ca-w-w-weah! 

Alas!  Aw've  been  gig-gig-'  going  it  bub-bub-bub-blind/ 

YE  FATE  OF  YE  TRAVELERS. 

Ye  trav'lers  thus  tut-tut-told  their  mis  huh -huh -haps, 
Then  got  into  the  bub-bub-boats  on  the  shu-whu  shore; 

And  once  in  '  Salt  wuh-wuh-Wiver,'  these  cl^ch-ch -chaps 
Were  mum-mum-mention'd  nor  mum-mum -miss'd  nev 
ermore  !  TUT-TUT-T. 


OH,  JESSIE  IS  A  SWEET,  BRIGHT  LADY. 

AIR  —  *'<7omm'  through  the  Rye." 

If  our  Johnny  woo  his  Jessie, 
From  auld  Tommy's  eye, 
Win  his  Jessie,  wed  his  Jessie, 
Need  auld  Tommy  cry1? 

Oh  Jessie  is  a  sweet,  bright  lady— 
Jessie,  Johnny's  bride* 


She  and  her  brave,  her  noble  laddie 
Always  side  by  side. 

If  our  Johnny  lead  his  Jessie 
To  a  "Romish  priest," 
Her  to  marry,  without  tarry, 
Need  "  Sammy  "  fret  the  least  ? 

Oh  Jessie  is,  etc. 

We  '11  with  Johnny,  "give  'em  Jessie," 
'Neath  the  White  House  roof; 
From  brave  Johnny,  and  sweet  Jessie, 
Need  Southern  hold  aloof? 

Oh  Jessie  is,  etc. 


